


just human nature

by hakyeonni



Category: VIXX
Genre: Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakyeonni/pseuds/hakyeonni
Summary: taekwoon likes controlling, and hakyeon likes being controlled.





	

Hakyeon knows the rules well by now.

There aren’t many of them, so it’s not that hard to remember. But it’s less remembering and more obeying, and God, sometimes it’s so hard to obey that he swears he’ll burst. Even the simple movement of Taekwoon sitting down behind him, sliding his hand around Hakyeon’s middle, has him trembling. He is hard already—has been for what seems like an age, now—but Taekwoon doesn’t go near his cock, just rubs Hakyeon’s chest slowly. His hands are slick with lube, the touch feather-light and icy cold, and it’s all he can do to close his eyes and let his head rest on Taekwoon’s shoulder, anticipating the contact.

When Taekwoon’s hand wraps around his cock, he exhales through his nose, shifting his hips minutely up into Taekwoon’s hand. He has never met anyone as good at giving handjobs as Taekwoon—even the feel of his own hand cannot compare anymore, not after so long with him—and he wants to fuck the circle of his fingers viciously. He restrains himself, though, because this is an exercise of restraint after all—although Hakyeon is still not sure if it’s _his_ restraint or Taekwoon’s that is being tested.

He wants to whine, wants to moan, and they’ve barely just begun. He doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that he wants to moan _so badly_ or the fact that he’s a mess after a minute or two from Taekwoon’s touch.

But that’s the first rule. _No making noise._

Taekwoon continues stroking him evenly, not speeding up, not slowing down, just enough to give him pleasure without pushing him towards the edge too fast. Hakyeon lets his eyes flutter shut, bites his lip, and curls his fingers on his thighs. Taekwoon is so good at this, so, so good, he can barely fucking believe it. And they didn’t even start this thing years ago with the intention to end up where they are; it had fallen into circumstance, as things with them so often did. Taekwoon likes controlling Hakyeon, and Hakyeon likes being controlled. It’s as simple as that.

“I’m close,” he gasps, feeling the slow build of heat in his belly sharpen into something tangible, real, his muscles tensing.

Immediately, Taekwoon releases his cock, giving him relief for a few moments. Like this, it’s like he can breathe again, and he does, gasping for air. Taekwoon’s hands stroke his belly again, the slick feeling of his hands making him shiver. He wants to whine when Taekwoon’s hand closes around his cock once more, but he cannot.

_No making noise, other than to tell Taekwoon he’s close._

Briefly, he lets his mind wander, lets himself consider that maybe Taekwoon does this with the others, too. They have never discussed it—they never even agree to meet, really, or at least not with words but with glances instead—but the thought of that has him gritting his teeth. It’s weirdly hot, to think that maybe he isn’t the only one who Taekwoon controls. It’s satisfying. Misery loves company, after all, even if Hakyeon is the furthest thing from miserable right now.

“Close,” he mutters, sighing as Taekwoon lets him go.

It’s very tempting to let a _please_ lip past his lips as Taekwoon resumes stroking him, but he cannot, _will_ not. He knows the punishment for that, and it’s more torturous than pleasurable; if he’s good, Taekwoon will let him come after fifteen minutes or so, but if he breaks any of the rules, he is entirely at Taekwoon’s mercy. Once, when he’d said _please_ twice, Taekwoon had jerked him off for a full forty-five minutes. By the end he come when Taekwoon took his hand away, the simple negative touch sending him spiralling over the edge. It was erotic, and he loves pushing boundaries, but not today.  Today he wants to _come_. Begging will not get him anywhere. 

_No begging._ The second rule.

All he can hear is the slick sounds of Taekwoon’s hand on his cock, and he nearly moans when his other hand comes up to pinch at his nipple, the way he likes—but he is good, and he flattens his lips in a line, and he manages. The dual sensations of Taekwoon’s hand on his cock and pinching at his nipple send ripples of pleasure through him, and he gasps, playing it off as a ragged inhale.

“I’m _close,”_ he says, not even ashamed that he is whining now.

He has considered lying, of course—not telling Taekwoon he’s close when he is, and coming without Taekwoon’s permission. He often considers it near the end, where Taekwoon’s every touch has him wriggling with desperation. But the entire point of this is to have control ripped away from him, and he obeys Taekwoon’s rules not because he’s afraid of the consequences but because he loves it so. It gives him a secret thrill whenever their eyes meet over dinner or listening to one of the others drone on to see Taekwoon’s eyes go dark—and to know that they’re both thinking of the same thing, of Hakyeon twisted up in knots, biting his lips desperately in an effort not to speak.

 _No lying._ The third rule.

“Close,” he whines, feeling the pleasure sharpen once more.

He’s already starting to sweat, but grits his teeth anyway as Taekwoon lets go of his cock but continues tweaking his nipple. The difference in their skin colour is striking in a gorgeous way, and sometimes he wishes he could see Taekwoon’s face. From here all he can see is his hands. He twists a little when Taekwoon starts jerking him off again, because he’s reaching the point of desperation, now—but it’s so, so beautiful, this thing that they have together, so he doesn’t mind the torturous pleasure. He lets a hand fall on Taekwoon’s thigh, pressed up against his own, digging his nails in. Thank god touch is allowed. He might actually explode if it wasn’t.

“Close.” His voice is hoarse.

This time, Taekwoon’s other hand slides down his torso to cup his balls. Even though his dick is untouched, the sensation of Taekwoon rolling the skin of his balls gently between thumb and forefinger still sends waves of pleasure through him. He only gets a second’s reprieve before Taekwoon is on him again, stroking him hard, and when he looks down he sees he’s leaking come already. Taekwoon picks some up of it on his finger and brings it to Hakyeon’s lips; obligingly, he wraps his lips around it, feeling Taekwoon exhale sharply. He is good. He will do anything Taekwoon tells him to. When Taekwoon rocks his hips closer, Hakyeon can feel his cock, hard against his back, and that sends a spasm of lust through him.

“Close! Close,” he says, and the temptation to let a moan out is so, so strong, but he manages, although he doesn’t know how.

Taekwoon snorts softly in his ear. “Good boy,” he whispers, his voice silken and smooth as he continues stroking.

The praise—Hakyeon _loves_ being praised, loves being told what a good boy he is, loves being a good boy for Taekwoon—makes him gasp. “Close,” he whines, his voice slipping up an octave on the last syllable.

He’s reaching the end, now. Things are starting to get wavy, so he closes his eyes and tips his head back and says in his mind all the things he is not allowed to. It’s nonsense, just a litany of _fuck Taekwoon please feel so good please please please let me come I’m a good boy please I want you to fuck me please please please_ , but if he can focus on the words, the syllables, it makes it a little easier to stand the way Taekwoon’s hand is so hot and slick around his cock, how fucking good it feels. That is until Taekwoon bites him gently on the shoulder, and he bucks upwards desperately.

“Close!”

A second’s reprieve before Taekwoon sets upon him. The sensation is almost too much.

“Close…”

That one was almost a moan, but Taekwoon lets it slide, much to his relief.

“Close!”

He knows the moment Taekwoon decides to let him come, because this time, he does not stop. His hand his hot and wet, so slippery, and the slick sounds of his fist make Hakyeon writhe hopelessly, his orgasm building. “Close,” he says again desperately, wanting to come so badly. “Close, close.”

Taekwoon does not relent. His orgasm hits him like a sledgehammer, violent and raw, and his eyes roll back in his head as he bucks underneath Taekwoon’s hands, the only thing keeping him there Taekwoon’s restraining hold on his hip. He has come all up his belly, some on his chest, but relief is nowhere to be found as Taekwoon continues stroking him through it, not caring how sensitive he is, milking him of come.

“Thank you!” he sobs, fingernails tearing into Taekwoon’s thigh desperately as the aftershocks course through him forcefully. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

Taekwoon milks him of come until he cries out, the pleasure too much in the wake of such an intense orgasm, and he takes his hand and shoves it towards Hakyeon’s mouth. Blearily, still not really sure of where he is or even _who_ he is, he licks Taekwoon’s hand clean, tasting himself, loving it.

 _Always say thank you._ The fourth and final rule.

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to the porn I watched that gave me the inspiration for this


End file.
